Just after sunset the other night, I stepped out on the porch and let a spring thunderstorm roll in around me.
The Sky Started Talking
It started with distant rumbles. More than heard. Low, steady, and rolling across the hills before finally reaching me.
Then it moved in closer.
Thunder cracked overhead—sharper now—echoing through the hills and across the fields. Not constant, not chaotic. Spaced out just enough.
I don’t go inside. I stood there and took it in.
Lightning Over the Pines
Every so often, the sky lit up.
Not quick little flashes either—full bursts of lightning that turned night into day for a split second. The pine trees along the edge of the yard showed up as dark silhouettes against the sky, like cutouts in a camera flash.
Then it dropped right back into darkness.
The Steady Rhythm of Rain
Once the rain settled in, it found its rhythm.
Not a drizzle. Not a violent downpour either. Just steady, consistent rain hitting the roof, the ground, and everything in between. The kind of sound I could sit and listen to for hours without getting tired of it.
It’s about as close as I get to natural white noise.
A Wisconsin Spring Night
Spring storms in Wisconsin have a certain feel to them.
Cool air. Damp earth. That smell that comes up right before and during the rain. Everything feels like it’s waking back up after a long winter, and storms like this are part of that shift.
I don’t get this in a city.
Out here, it’s just me, the porch, and whatever the sky decides to do next.
Sit Back and Listen
If you’ve got a few minutes, put on some headphones and let it play.
No fast cuts. No distractions. Just:
- Rolling thunder, both distant and overhead
- Lightning lighting up the treeline
- A steady spring rain settling in for the night
Sometimes that’s all I need.
